Twas The Night Before Christmas
by kygirl101
Summary: Twas the night ebfore Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse...Well, and one very curious boy who refuses to believe that Santa is real. REUPLOADED! Done for Christmas Contest on SHINE


**This was done for Dosi's Christmas-y Contest on SHINE, and while I shall not give warnings (because they give away the plot) I'll just tell you; it's an innocent story. Child-centric, infact. **

**ARG!!! I was stupid and I deleated this, and only VERY recently did I realize that--OMG! This ficlet was not up! I am sorry, I know it's closer to Valintine's Day, but I had to reupload this. Thank you to all the people who already reviewed! I love you so incrediably muhc that I can't put it into words. And for those who haven't, please enjoy the late Christmas spirit!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Host Club or 'Twas The Night Before Christmas'. I simply felt in the moment, and this is the result. Happy Holidays, everyone! ^^ Also, unbeta'ed. I really need one of them ^^**

_Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house_

_Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse._

Somewhere in the extensive Ootori estate, a small boy lay in wait, his ears perked and his knees drawn up to his chest, feet burrowed into the soft blankets of his bed. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Nothing was walking around to put presents under the tree, nor in the stockings.

He startled when the snow laden branches of the tree outside racked against his window and the wind whistled outside, sounding much like a tea kettle at full brew.

"Santa Clause?" he pondered in the darkness. "Are you real?"

_The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,_

_In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there._

_-_

_The children were nestled all snug in their beds,_

_While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads._

Glancing from side to side, the five year old tried to lay back down, his head barely touching the pillow before he heard another strange sound outside that caused him to sit bolt up right. If what he had been told was true, Santa only came at night, but since it's never night all around the world and Santa goes all around the world, it really didn't matter if he was asleep or not.

It only mattered if Santa caught him, but it didn't sound like Santa was even there. That was what the boy was bent on discovering.

_And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,_

_Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap._

_--_

_When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,_

_I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter._

And then he heard it.

The soft ringing of bells echoed somewhere in the front yard and, unless his ears were deceiving him, it sounded like Santa was driving an actual car.

Dismissing the possibility, the boy flung back his covers and swung his feet around until they dangled over the edge of the bed. He hesitated, weighing the outcome and whatever merits there were to risking getting on the naughty list.

The good reasons outweighed the bad. By a long shot.

_Away to the window I flew like a flash,_

_Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash._

_-_

_The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow_

_Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below._

The landing light was still on. Dimmed, but on, and it easily enough illuminated the pathway down the hall and to the top of the stairs. From there, he could easily see into the foyer, where a large green evergreen tree was lightly decorated by a single string of white lights and various red and white candy canes. At least twenty brightly wrapped Christmas presents from family and friends lay, adorned with bows of all shapes and sizes, under the bright green and fragrant needles of the tree.

He already knew what half of them were: a encyclopedia collection was in the blue paper with the pink bow; several pairs of socks were in the yellow and gold wrap, no bow, but an extravagant bunch on the top; three smaller packages were the entire box sets of "The Blue Planet" and an envelope that was perched on the tree itself were tickets to an opera.

Somewhere out of the boy's line of vision, the bells still rattled, and there was a scuffling…._By the fireplace_, he realized.

_When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,_

_But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer._

_---_

_With a little old driver, so lively and quick,_

_I knew in a moment it must be St Nick._

But…that was impossible. Santa Clause couldn't be real! He simply couldn't. Out of all the thousands of millions of children, and even out of those who either didn't celebrate Christmas or were on the naughty list, it was virtually impossible for him to travel around the world in one night! Twenty-four hours were not enough to go around the world, even if it was by reindeer.

"Oh crap," he heard, inching down the stairs as a resounding crash reached his ears and the figure he assumed to be 'Santa' swore softly. He was at the base of the staircase now, and could easily peak around the open door frame to see what was happening, but he didn't. A small breath caught in his through before, stealing himself, he jumped around the corner and felt his mouth drop open in childlike shock…

_More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,_

_And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!_

_-_

_"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!_

_On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!_

As soon as the large figure garbed up in a large red and white suit heard the gasp, he froze and whirled around, white beard flapping against his face as the man gaped at the boy, who gaped back, and the two were utterly silent. A large brown sack lay half open and half empty by the fireplace, and at least twelve large packages that were more brightly wrapped than the others were spilled onto the threshold of the fireplace. Nothing moved…

"Uh…hello, little boy…" Santa finally managed, sounding sheepish and as if he were attempting to mask his voice. "Uh…have you been good all year?"

_To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!_

_Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"_

_----_

_As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,_

_When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky._

His jaw remained open…"Santa…?"

He wasn't real! He couldn't be! it was impossible! …Maybe there were multiple Santa Clauses, and they all took a single time zone on Christmas Eve? It was a much more feasible arrangement, and not so foolhardy and unbelievable. Who knew? Maybe each kid had their own personal Santa Clause, who catered to them and only them.

Either way, the "jolly" man in front of him looked rather uncomfortable. "Uh…yeah, I'm Santa Clause. And you're the Ootori boy, correct? What are you still doing up?"

_So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,_

_With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too._

_-_

_And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof_

_The prancing and pawing of each little hoof._

He forced his mouth closed and gulped, wetting his suddenly dry throat with saliva before inclining his head in respect and averting his eyes as was proper for children his age. "I'm sorry," he muttered, tone reasonably blank, "I couldn't sleep. And then I heard you and…Excuse me, Santa, but where are your reindeer."

_As I drew in my head, and was turning around,_

_Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound._

_-----_

_He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,_

_And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot._

"Uh…They're sick…Dancy and Prancy and, uh…Tommy and Blitz and Meteoroid and Runner and Love and…Donner? All sick. Hay fever."

The child raises an eyebrow, unsure if he's being lied to. Contemplating the expression that was somewhat obscured by the man's thick white beard, the child puckered his lips in a distrusting glare and reminded himself that he should grow a beard just as large as this mans, incase he was ever in need of lying in a situation where his face would give away the opposite answer.

Santa coughed uncomfortably before busying himself with the sack of toys again and murmuring self consciously, "I've got to get hurrying; lots of children to, uh…give…stuff…"

"Mr, are you the real Santa Clause?"

_A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,_

_And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack._

_-_

_His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!_

_His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!_

Santa blinked his startlingly blue eyes and turned his attention back to the boy. "Real? Of course I am!" he cried joyously, almost immediately clutching his fingers to his lips and glancing up stairs, looking guilty. "Better not wake your father…I bet he's a monster when woken up."

Numbly, the small child nodded, his mouth still firmly pressed into a line. That line parted as he asked again. "Santa…how do you get around the world? You only have twenty-four hours and millions and billions of little kids to go to."

Santa smiled.

_His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,_

_And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow._

_------_

_The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,_

_And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath._

"Why, I have all my little elves help me! They've all got reindeer of their own, you see!" And the brunette five year old thought he heard the taller red figure murmur something like, "But I imagine they name theirs something a lot more dignified than 'Prancy and Dancy'."

"Does this mean Rudolf is real, as well?"

Santa blinked… "Randle?"

"Rudolf."

"Rachel?"

"Rudolf!"

"Oh him?" Santa (if in an anime cartoon) sweatdropped visibly, tugging on the hem of his red suit and turning a little more rosy under his white beard. "Yes, him too."

Somewhere in the depths of the house, a clock struck two in the morning. The red suited man looked at the clock and grinned sheepishly at the child. "I have to go now, little boy…So, uh…be good for your parents, okay?"

_He had a broad face and a little round belly,_

_That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!_

_-_

_He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,_

_And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!_

The child blinked, surprised, and nodded quietly, his eyes--momentarily--flicking to the large pile of presents (_where they even real?)_ before back to the mystical man.

Now all that was left was for him to sweep up the chimney. If Santa Clause was real, he would zoom out the floo and onto the roof. There, if stories were to be believed, he would then fly away to the next house by means of reindeer, and then the next and then the next and then the--

The door creaked slightly as Santa opened and closed it quietly, waving goodbye to his young audience before trudging away in the snow, his black boots kicking through the powdery frost as if it were sand.

_A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,_

_Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread._

_-------_

_He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,_

_And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk._

So Santa Clause was real.

The child accepted that and smiled to himself, eyes flicking once again towards the mountain of gifts. Perhaps just one…No. Must wait until morning.

Quietly, he crept back out of the empty living room, heart feeling light and slightly awkward, as if it were too small for his chest. He glanced down each hall way, blinking wearily and suddenly tired from all the excitement and speculation of the evening. No one was there so, stealthily, so as to not wake up his parents, the child continued his walk down the dark area and eventually found himself standing in the doorway of his room, weary and ready for sleep.

The last thing that crossed the boys mind before he drifted into sleep for the few remaining hours before sunlight were this:

'If Santa Clause is real…he sure is more real than the fictional version…'

And then there was nothing…

_And laying his finger aside of his nose,_

_And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!_

_-_

_He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,_

_And away they all flew like the down of a thistle._

And as 'Santa' crawled back into bed, the dark haired beauty laying next to him groaned and flicked on the light. "You tricked him, didn't you."

The blond sighed and smiled. "Well, yes, Kyouya. I wanted him to be happy."

"Tamaki, our son does not need the imaginary world to interconnect with the real one in order to be happy. He's getting his train set and American football either way, so why did you insist on dressing up in that red atrocity and a fat suit?"

Santa smiled. "Because, you always said how you never believed in Santa."

"And what does that have to do with anything? You yourself didn't even celebrate Christmas as a child. If I recall, your mother remarried and you were raised Jewish. Are you even familiar with the holiday traditions?"

Ignoring a majority of his lovers sentence, the giddy blond in the fat suit beamed. "Well, this way, I proved you wrong, and I made someone happy in the process."

"You messed up the reindeers names, didn't you…"

"….Maybe…" When he didn't get a response, Tamaki sighed happily and slipped the irritatingly big and white beard off his face and settled down to wait (he had no chances of sleeping) until six thirty, when a small, happy, excited bundle of black hair and violet eyes tore into their room and retold his encounter with 'Santa'.

_But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,_

_"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"_

**_Fin_**

**HA! So, did I have anyone going? Did anyone think it was actually Kyouya who was the nameless child? Well, it was not!! Originally, I had different plans for this fic; Tamaki was going to try and persuade the hosts to throw a Christmas eve party for Kyouya, and they would all end up getting attacked by dogs, but it didn't work out that way. PLus, I like this version better ^^ It's cute.**

**So, now for the warnings, even if it's too late! Mild yaoi (KyouTama), blatent abuse of reindeer names, (it's up to you weather you saw it as this or adoption) and mpreg! Feeling generous? You could always give me a Christmas present and drop a review! ^^**


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